


Dean's Last Day

by nagi_schwarz



Series: Five Times Rory Remembered Her First Love [2]
Category: Gilmore Girls, Supernatural
Genre: Bodyswap, Crossover, Fusion, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-28
Updated: 2013-07-28
Packaged: 2018-05-26 06:54:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6228313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagi_schwarz/pseuds/nagi_schwarz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Rory says goodbye to Dean, Cousin Sam is very frosty, and the boys roar out of town in the big shiny black car.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dean's Last Day

**Author's Note:**

> Some dialogue straight from GG Season 3.

Rory paced up and down the sidewalk along Peach Street in front of the Foresters’ house for she didn’t know how long. Dare she ring the doorbell? One of his family members would answer it, and they’d hate her, or if they didn’t already know they’d be hating her soon, or --

Rory wasn’t a coward. Well, she was kind of a coward, but she was Lorelei Gilmore’s daughter, and she would face the consequences of her actions. Climbing up the tree was easy, but tip-toeing across the tiles without accidentally dislodging one or, worse, falling and breaking her neck, would be a more difficult feat. She crouched on a broad bough and peered out from beneath the leaves, watching Dean through the window. He had a notebook and textbook open on his desk, like he’d been in the middle of studying, but there was an old beat-up army duffel on his bed, and he was shoving clothes into it, movements jerky, like he was angry or in a hurry. Rory frowned. What was going on? He had a cell phone tucked against his ear - since when did he have one of those? - and he was nodding at whatever the person on the other end of the line was saying. Then he flipped the cell phone shut and shoved it into his pocket, stared down at his duffel bag. His shoulders heaved in a weary sigh, and then he straightened up, turned a circle, staring at the Led Zeppelin and classic car posters on his walls like he was trying to memorize them.

And then he spotted her.

He crossed the room in a few quick strides and tugged the window open.

“Hey,” she said, trying to sound bright. It came out forced instead.

Dean’s expression was unreadable. “What are you doing?”

“I climbed a tree.” Not everyone appreciated the Gilmore brand of humor, deadpan statements of the obvious. Dean had become used to it, but he didn’t look very appreciative at the moment.

“Why?”

Rory couldn’t help herself - she launched into a rambling explanation about whether or not his mother knew about the break-up, and whether she disliked Rory now, or whether Clara did too. Usually Dean found her rambling endearing, if a little puzzling, but his expression remained opaque to her.

“Well too bad, Rory. Somebody doesn’t like you for once.” His tone was brusque.

Rory wilted. She’d hurt him, and badly; that much was obvious. “I didn’t mean --”

“What do you want?” The muscle in his jaw twitched.

Rory attempted another bright tone. “Do you remember that girl who lived in a tree for a year? I can officially attest that she was nuts.”

Dean started to close the window. “I have to go.”

It was now or never. “I want to say that I'm sorry.”

Dean’s gaze turned shadowed. “For what?” He sounded genuinely puzzled, rather than vindictive.

Rory took a deep breath. Each word tripped off her tongue like a lead weight, a pound for each sin. She couldn’t decide if she felt lighter or heavier for having let them loose in the air. “For treating you way I did. For doing all the things that you said I did. I am so, so sorry. It's all my fault. I don't know what's wrong with me. You were the most amazing boyfriend in the world. You made me so happy. You made me laugh, you made my mother like you, you were nice to my friends, you protected me, you even came with me to that stupid debutante ball.”

“I don't need the list.” Dean shook his head and started to turn away from the window.

Rory called after him, half desperate, “I really did love you. Please believe that.”

“You with him now?” Dean raised an eyebrow.

“I don't want to talk about him.” She didn’t. Whether or not she was with Jess now - and she wasn’t sure herself - didn’t diminish what she had felt for Dean, or how wonderful a boyfriend he had been. “I just came to tell you that I'm truly sorry I hurt you. And that I'm going to miss you so much and I just hope that someday you won't hate me anymore.”

“I hope so too.” And he closed the window and walked away.

Rory hunkered on the branch, watching him pack his clothes, motions slower, tired, and then the growl of an engine startled her. She turned and saw a sleek black classic car pull up to the sidewalk. It was the kind of car Dean would have liked, all muscular, masculine lines and a shiny finish. In fact, he had a poster of just that kind of car on his wall. Mrs. Forester opened the front door and trotted out to meet the car. She said,

“Sam, it’s good to see you again. If only it weren’t so bittersweet an occasion.”

The driver side door swung up, and a young man stepped out. He was tall and lean, like Dean, but he had dark blond hair and green eyes and sharper, narrower features. There was something about his eyes, though, that reminded her of Dean.

“Dean should be almost packed,” Mrs. Forester said. “You boys always travel so light, but then that’s the way of the road, isn’t it?” She looked wistful.

Sam nodded. “Yes, ma’am. Dad sends his thanks, by the way. He’s a little banged up, otherwise he’d have come in person.” He tucked his hands into the pockets of his olive green army jacket and gazed at the house. His expression was also wistful. “You have a lovely home.”

Mrs. Forester laughed. “You say that every time you visit.”

Sam smiled. “It’s true every time.”

“Are you sure you boys can’t stay for dinner?” Mrs. Forester worried at her bottom lip.

“Dad’s kind of an impatient man, and I imagine Dean’s probably itching to get this over with,” Sam said.

Rory wondered that Dean wanted to get over with. Who was this Sam person? Was he going on a trip with Dean somewhere? It sounded like he was taking Dean away. Rory climbed down the tree as quietly as she could, making sure Sam and Mrs. Forester were distracted with their conversation the entire time.

“I’ll bet you are, too,” Mrs. Forester said, and she winked slyly. “It can’t have been all bad. Both of you boys are so handsome.”

Sam ducked his head and blushed. “Thanks, but Dean’s brand of handsome is usually more trouble than it’s worth. Now I get why he hates being called pretty.”

Mrs. Forester patted his shoulder. “It’ll be over soon enough.” She glanced over her shoulder, and her smile faded. “Oh dear. Looks like Clara’s having a little trouble letting go. Motherly intervention is required.” She turned and trotted back up from the front steps.

Sam sat on the edge of the car hood, hands in his pockets, watching the front door.

Rory hesitated at the base of the tree. Dare she speak to Sam? Was Dean really leaving? He’d been packing up in his room. Where was he going? Would he come back? She bit her lip and stared at Sam. She’d seen him around town before, sure, but only ever long enough for a cup of coffee to go at Luke’s. She hadn’t realized he even knew Dean.

Sam turned and looked right at her. His eyes narrowed, and his straightened up. His shoulders were broader than Dean’s; he was older, and for one moment, he looked terrifying.

“You’re Rory.” Every syllable was carved from ice.

There was no use hiding now. She walked toward him slowly. “I am.”

“Dean loves you, you know,” Sam said. “I don’t think you understand how rare that is, for him to love outside his family.” His expression was dark and distinctly dangerous.

Rory swallowed hard. “I did love him, I really did, and I never meant to hurt him --”

“Funny. Dean said you were smart. Surely you know kissing another boy would hurt him.” Each word cracked like a whip.

“No, I never --”

“Was I imagining it last year, then? A lovely summer wedding, Dean dressed in the nicest suit he’s ever owned, you in a pretty blue bridesmaid’s dress, tangled up with some dark-haired boy who was rather distinctly not Dean? He was significantly shorter, if I recall.” Sam’s eyes glittered with malice.

Rory’s heart plummeted into her shoes. She’d told her mother about the illicit kiss with Jess Mariano, and they’d both agreed she should never tell Dean.

Sam tilted his head to one side, eyed her like he’d thought she might be something of a challenge, then shook his head, dismissed her. “Don’t worry - I won’t tell him. He’s had enough trouble lately as it is.”

“I’m sorry --”

“Apparently not sorry enough you didn’t go running off to that little midget as soon as you got tired of Dean.” Sam raised his eyebrows. “Not good enough for you? Not smart enough, not normal enough? What was it?”

Anger burned through Rory. How dare this stranger judge her. “It wasn’t like that at all. You don’t understand --”

“I know Dean would go to hell and back for someone he loves, and he deserves nothing less from people who claim to love him in return.” Then Sam blinked, reared back.

Dean came trotting down the front steps with the duffel bag Rory had seen earlier slung over one shoulder. “Hey, Sammy! Let’s blow this popsicle stand. All we gotta do is pick up my last paycheck.”

Sam reached into his pocket and drew out a set of keys, tossed them. Dean caught it deftly with one hand.

“There’s my baby.” He grinned, reached out to run a hand over the edge of the door, and then he saw Rory.

Sam straightened up, took Dean’s bag for him. “I’ll throw this in back. Give you two a moment.” He moved around to the back of the car and started rummaging loudly in the trunk.

"Rory, what are you still doing here?" Dean shoved his hands into his pockets, curled his shoulders in. A moment later he frowned, irritated at himself, and shook out his limbs, stood up straighter.

"Where are you going?"

"Family emergency."

Mrs. Forester hadn't looked at all like she thought there was some kind of family emergecy. In fact, she'd looked calm and resigned. Surely if there was a family emergency Dean's parents would be going along, right?

"Is everything okay?"

"It will be soon," Dean said. "Look, I gotta go."

Rory blurted out, "Will you be coming back?" As soon as it came out of her mouth, she regretted it, because she knew it was irrational. Of course he was coming back - his family was here.

Dean closed his eyes, swallowed hard. He started to smile, one of his smart-aleck affairs, but then he just shook his head. "Look, Rory, the next time you see me -- This is going to sound crazy. When you see me again, I'm going to be a different person. I won't be the Dean you knew."

He was talking about himself in the past tense. "I don't understand." Rory studied his face, worried at her bottom lip. "Dean --

"I have to go." He turned away, headed for the driver's side of the car. Rory started after him, but then the trunk slammed, and Sam was marching toward her, green eyes cold and furious. He yanked open the passenger side door and folded himself into the seat. He reached for the radio.

Dean swatted his hand aside, the gesture presumptuous but familiar, as if an older brother to a younger. "House rules."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Just drive."

Dean started the engine and pulled away from the sidewalk. Rory watched the black car roar off, and then she turned and headed for home.


End file.
